Reversed
by Ainmosni
Summary: Six years after the game a dark turn of events leaves Naoto stranded in the TV World while the real culprit runs free. M rated for language, violence, blood/gore, suspense, and some sexuality. Dark scenes and character death later in story.
1. Prologue: Stranded

A/N: This story is going to twist some things from the game in a very dark way. It takes place six years after the events in the game (2017. 1st year students would be 21 and 2nd year students would be 22), so obviously the characters will be reacting to situations that are more adult. The M rating (though I'm loath to give it for fear of losing readers) is mostly for blood, violence, and language, although there may be some sexual situations (but this isn't a lemon). The title refers to the bad things that happen when you draw an Arcana card in the reversed position. Please read and review. Persona 4 is copyrighted by Atlus and used here without permission.

**Reversed**

**Prologue:**

It was painfully cold. That's all Naoto could determine at first. All her senses were cut off except for that of touch, which was amplified by the lack of other perceptive means. All she could feel was the cold draping over her body like an icy shroud wrapped so tight she could barely breathe. Oppressive. That was the word she'd been searching for. The cold was oppressive.

But where was she? Why couldn't she see or hear? What was going on? Naoto searched her mind in vain for any memory that might assist her in forming answers.

_Think! _Yamato Takeru buzzed. _You can't do anything but feel. So use that!_

Naoto silently agreed and began to take stock of her position. She stretched out her arms and felt along the ground with her hands. Taking a deep breath, Naoto focused on drawing logical conclusions based on her immediate evidence.

"I seem to be lying on the ground. There are small, gritty particles in the area surrounding my body. I can rule out any smooth surface, for there is a heterogeneous mixture of rock, firm soil, and sand in the vicinity. All evidence suggests that the surface on which I lay is a type of rocky soil."

_Good. You have ruled out any place indoors. So where could we be with rocky soil and chill temperature?_

Naoto paused to think. "I doubt we are in a city. Cities are far too busy for an incapacitated person to go unnoticed. As I have not been touched or otherwise moved, I shall assume that I _have_ gone unnoticed. Therefore, I must be in an inconspicuous area within a city or, more likely, in a rural area."

_A rural area. Home?_

"No. We are not in Inaba. It is currently the rainy season, meaning that the air would be hot and humid and the ground would be moist. Neither of these conditions hold true here."

Naoto shifted against the ground uncomfortably. She was surprised when she heard gravel crunch beneath her. "My hearing has returned?" She paused and listened. Strangely enough, she couldn't hear anything. There was no distant traffic or voices; no barking dogs or singing birds. She couldn't even hear the wind. The silence, like the cold, was oppressive.

In order to prove that her hearing had indeed returned, Naoto grabbed a handful of gravel and tossed it in the air. The small stones landed on the ground with an audible plink.

Naoto frowned. So she could hear after all. There just wasn't anything to hear.

_Can you see?_

"No. I have already established…" Naoto realized as she spoke that she could see something. It was blurry. No. It was foggy. Everything was shrouded in dense fog.

"I almost wish I had my glasses from Teddie," Naoto chuckled. Suddenly her stomach dropped as a vague memory tickled the back of her brain. "I-I'm not in the TV world. I can't be." She would test this theory and prove it wrong.

Pushing herself onto her feet, Naoto focused. "Come Yamato Takeru!" A shinning blue card appeared out of thin air and floated in front of her. She crushed the card and her persona appeared to Naoto's great dismay.

_So what does this prove? _The white-clad persona buzzed at her.

Naoto sank back to the ground. "It proves that I am in the TV world…alone…and I don't know how I got here."

_But you have solved the first question: you know where you are now._

"True," Naoto sighed. "But why and how are the more important questions."

_Can't you remember anything?_

Naoto closed her eyes and thought as hard as she could. Her mind felt fuzzy somehow. No, that was pain. Naoto felt her head and found a large gash just above her ear. The blood had clotted and now there was a sticky crust in her hair. Dried blood flaked off her ear and neck as she ran her hand over them. For the first time, Naoto noticed that her hat and revolver were both missing. There was a gash in her lip as well.

"There must have been an altercation immediately prior to my entering the TV. This leaves it safe to assume that I did not enter the TV of my own will. That means that some one put me here." Suddenly, there was a flash of memory. "The case! There was the case. I was tracking the murderer."

_Go back to the beginning. As far as you can remember. Retrace your steps. That's what all great detectives do._

"The beginning?" What could she call the beginning? Further thought brought her to a clear starting point: April 25, 2017. "The weather was rainy. The night was dark. I had no suspicion of what was to occur on the following morning. I was focused on something else entirely…"

Everything began to come back to her. The fog in her mind was beginning to clear. And all Naoto wanted to do was put the fog right back. The memories were ones she'd rather not possess.


	2. Chapter 1: The Calm Before The Storm

A/N: Hi guys, I've edited this chapter quite a bit and decided to re-post it now that I'm happier with it. Chapter Two has also gotten a makeover, and will be back up shortly. Plus, Chapter Three is on its way. Hooray! If you've already read this chapter and want to read it in its new and improved form, that would be awesome, but you don't have to. Thanks and enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter One**

_April 25, 2017—afternoon_. _Weather: rainy_.

"Jeeze, you really don't throw stuff away." Kanji remarked as he peered in through the door Naoto had just opened.

The detective shrugged and stepped into the room, wading her way through a sea of countless boxes. "Try not to break anything, Kanji."

"Me? I'm not the one who knocked over an entire display of canned fruit at Junes the other day."

"It was a most unfortunate event, I will admit. But honestly, it was an illogical placement." Naoto chuckled as she crouched down near a box and began rummaging through its contents. "How is one supposed to maneuver a grocery cart around other shoppers, children, and foolishly placed pyramids of canned peaches? I intend to take this matter up with Yosuke-senpai the next time I see him."

Kanji snorted and began poking through a second box. "Right. You knockin' the peaches over was Yosuke's fault. Had nothin' to do with the way you get in stores."

Naoto looked up from her box. "What do you mean?"

"You know, the whole…" Kanji imitated looking around wide-eyed and said in a high pitched voice, "_There are so many visual stimuli. I must investigate all of them. Oops, did I run something over? Oh it was your foot, Kanji? I'm sorry_."

Naoto scowled at him. "My voice does not sound like that."

"But you do get all spacey, and you know it." Kanji laughed.

Naoto threw a wadded up piece of newspaper she'd found in the box at him. It hit him in the center of the forehead.

"Oh, that's it. You are dead." Kanji sprang to his feet.

Laughing, Naoto got to her feet to and attempted to run, but she tripped over a box and fell to the floor. Kanji gently tackled her as she tried to get up.

"Gotcha." He laughed, pinning her squirming frame beneath him.

"Ah, Kanji-chan. Get off of me this instant." Naoto said, attempting to be serious, but failing.

He grinned at her. "Alright." But as he moved to get up, Naoto used the shift in balance to her advantage and pushed him onto his back. She pinned him now, grinding her elbow into his shoulder.

"Cheap move, detective." Kanji shook his head with a smile.

"It's all about reading people and taking advantage of their weaknesses when you see them." Naoto chuckled. "It's really quite simp—"

Kanji cut off her words with a quick kiss. As he pulled back, Naoto grabbed his face and pulled his mouth back. She was quite surprised as Kanji flipped her onto her back, effectively pinning her again.

"You see, Naoto, 's all about readin' people and takin' advantage of their weaknesses when you see 'em." He smiled at her and leaned his forehead against her's.

Naoto laughed softly. "Touché." She kissed him again, moving her hands up into his hair.

"Hey, we still haveta make sure you didn't leave anything important down here though, right." Kanji said against her lips.

Naoto sighed. "You're right."

Kanji stood and helped her to her feet. With her hand still in his, he looked around at the boxes in the Shirogane Estate basement. "All this stuff ain't gonna fit in my apartment, you know?"

Naoto looked at him like he was an idiot. "Of course not. I am simply checking for some old case notes. The rest of these items can remain in storage her. Grandpa still lives her whenever he's in town, so it won't be like the place is deserted…all the time."

Kanji nodded, still looking around. "What exactly is down here? I mean, it looks kinda like a museum." He let go of her hand and went to examine a suit of armor in the corner. "Where'd you get this stuff?"

Naoto shrugged, returning to the box she'd been rummaging through earlier. "Most of the things toward the back have been here for generations. I suppose the inability to discard anything is a Shirogane flaw."

Kanji nodded as he examined the suit of armor's shield. "Hey, uh you think your gramps would mind if I took this?"

Naoto looked over her shoulder to see Kanji holding the shield. It reminded her of a much younger Kanji, standing in the TV World with his steel plate, waiting for a Shadow to come across his path. She smiled. "You aren't planning a trip inside the TV, are you?"

Kanji looked at the shield in his hand and laughed. "Nah, I just like the look of this thing." He took a swing with it. The shield was heavier than he'd anticipated though, and as he swung it, he lost his balance and staggered sideways in to the suit of armor. The entire suit clattered to the ground, scattering pieces of armor across the room. For a moment neither Kanji nor Naoto spoke. Naoto's eyes were wide and her mouth hung slightly open. Kanji's face was frozen in a flinch.

"Well, shit." Kanji finally broke the silence. He set the shield down against the wall. "Think I'm just gonna leave this here."

Naoto nodded. "Are you alright?"

"Besides my busted pride, I'm fine."

Naoto laughed. "Don't worry, you didn't break it…I don't think."

"Let's not find out." Kanji said as he hurried away from the scattered pieces of armor. He peered over Naoto's shoulder and into the box she was digging through. "Hey, is that your old armor from the TV World?"

Naoto smiled. "Yes. This box is full of things from that year." She gently ran her thumb over a little golden watch and sighed somewhat sadly.

Kanji raised his eyebrow. "That's…"

Naoto nodded. "The watch I made for Souji-senpai. I attempted to give it to him on Christmas Eve…but…"

Kanji laid a hand on her shoulder. "But you ran into me on your way over there."

Naoto chuckled and rummaged through the box again, producing a Sukuna-Hikona plushy. "Yes. Yes I did. And I am very happy that it was you who I spent that Christmas Eve with. Not Souji."

Kanji blushed. "You ain't just sayin' that?"

Naoto gave him _the look_. "Kanji…don't do that." She placed a slender hand on his cheek and traced his jawbone with her thumb. "Why would I ever lie to you?"

Kanji leaned his forehead against her's. "I just want you to know, you don't haveta, do any a this. You know… move in with me an' all. I mean, I understand if you want your own place and—"

Naoto pulled back from him, searching his face for some sort of clue. Why was he doing that? Did she do something wrong? No, illogical. "Don't be ridiculous, Kanji. I spend more time in your apartment than I ever do here. I've practically lived there for the past month. It is illogical for me to continue living out of a suitcase."

_You are over simplifying! The other reason is more important!_ Naoto ignored the familiar buzz.

"Naoto, I don't want you to move in with me just 'cause it's 'logical.' I want you to move in with me because you…want to." Kanji looked away, apparently finding a crack in the cement floor to be very interesting.

Naoto frowned. "What ever made you think that I didn't want to?"

Kanji shrugged still looking intently at the crack in the cement. "You're always saying that it's logical." He turned to look at her. " Naoto, I don't care if it's logical or not. I just want you to be happy. Even if that means being illogical."

Naoto smiled and took Kanji's face in her hands. "I am happy."

Kanji seemed to relax and kissed her gently.

"Besides, your apartment is more home to me than this drafty old place."

Kanji hugged her. "I'm glad, you know?"

"I know."

* * *

_It rained that all that day as we moved things from the estate to Kanji's apartment. It continued raining into the night. After we finished dinner (take-out from Aiya), we retreated to the bedroom and spent the evening making love. We fell asleep some time around midnight. Neither of us knew the horrors that the next day would bring. And even if we had, would we have been able to stop him? I will always wonder._


	3. Chapter 2: The First Victim

A/N: I've fixed up a few things in this chapter that seemed "off"…at least to me. If you've already read this and want to comment about the changes, that would be super awesome…but you really don't have to. Chapter Three is on its way.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_April 26, 2017—early morning_. _Weather: foggy_.

A high-pitched chirping noise nudged Naoto from a dreamless sleep. _What is that noise? _

Beside her, Kanji echoed her thoughts, his voice heavy with sleep. "The hell's that?"

The chirping penetrated the thick fog of sleep and Naoto's thought process awoke. "Cell phone," she mumbled, reaching over Kanji for the disruptive object. Her hands fumbled and Naoto swore as she knocked the phone off the nightstand. Finally managing to recover the still-chirping device, Naoto pressed the talk button and mumbled what may have been "hello" into the receiver.

"Shirogane?" The voice on the other end was sharp, commanding, and decidedly masculine.

"Dojima-san. Hello." _What could he possibly want at this time of morning? _

"We've got a case for you." There was the sound of a match being struck and a deep inhalation.

Beside her, Kanji grunted again." Tell whoever it is to shove the phone up their ass."

Naoto decided not to relay Kanji's greeting. "I was not planning to take any cases this week. I am on a much needed vacation after last month's lengthy money laundering case. Can you bring in anyone else?" _If you make me get out of bed Dojima, I swear—_

"What's this? The great 'Detective Prince' doesn't want a case?" Dojima exhaled smoke in a laugh.

Naoto pictured him sitting at his desk, a cloud of smoke wreathing his head. An ashtray would be sitting in front of him with the still-smoldering remnants of his bad habit casting a weak glow across the case files on his chaotic desk. She'd seen this desk many times during the case she'd worked as a fifteen-year-old "male." He'd made fun of her then. It was expected. But to still resort to such childish names…well, he was Dojima after all.

"Do not call me that. What's happened?"

"There's been a murder. Namatame is dead."

"Namatame? As in Taro Namatame?"

"Yeah. This is why I need a detective. A _good_ detective. One who won't fuck up the case. That's you, Shirogane."

Naoto beamed. Dojima might be an ass sometimes, but he knew when to acknowledge truth. He was a detective, and although he wasn't a Shirogane, he was pretty damn good at what he did.

"I'm surprised you wouldn't want this case, Dojima-san."

"I do want it. But I can't investigate this. You remember what happened. I'm on the top of the suspect list." Dojima sighed angrily. "You know, protocol is really a bitch sometimes. I would never kill this crazy fuck."

Naoto silently agreed. Protocol, though necessary, was not always fair. "Where is the crime scene?"

"Inaba Mental Health Center." Another smoky exhalation. "Will you take the case?"

"I'll be there in half an hour. Mark off a crime scene and don't let anyone—"

"Shirogane, I know how to do my job. I've been doing it since you were in diapers. Now shut up and get your ass down here!"

Naoto bit back a snide comment about his age. "I'll be there, Dojima-san."

"Excellent." The phone clicked as he hung up.

Naoto sighed and closed her phone, setting it back on the nightstand. She glanced at the time on Kanji's alarm clock: 5:30 am.

"Fantastic. So much for my week off."

"Wuzzat?" Kanji mumbled, turning to face her. His hair was rumpled and stuck up in several different directions. Naoto smiled and attempted (in vain) to smooth the errant locks.

"I've got to go. Case." She kissed him swiftly and made to move out of bed.

"Nu-uh." Kanji shook his head and grabbed Naoto's arm, pulling her back down onto the bed. "You're staying here."

For a brief moment, Naoto agreed. Staying would be a fantastic plan.

_Namatame is dead. Dojima needs you. Shirking responsibility? Horrible detective!_

"I am not shirking anything, Yamato Takeru." Naoto mumbled into Kanji's shoulder.

"Yeah. Shut up you…midget…bug persona…thing" Kanji mumbled, still not quite awake.

Naoto elbowed him in the ribs. "I resent the use of the word 'midget.' Yamato Takeru may be small, but I'd like to see Rokuten-Maoh perform a Megidolaon."

"A'right, no need to get so defensive." Kanji flinched as she elbowed him again. "So, what's this 'bout a case?"

Naoto sighed, remembering the complications that she would shortly be dealing with. "Taro Namatame has been murdered."

Kanji's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Shit." He scratched the back of his neck. "The poor bastard still livin' over in the loony bin?"

"Mental Health Center." Naoto corrected. "And yes, he was until just recently. Now he is dead over in 'the loony bin.' Which is why I need to get going."

Naoto got out of bed and opened a dresser drawer, rooting through it for suitable work clothing.

"Dojima-san ain't handelin' this one then?"

Naoto glanced over her shoulder. "He can't. Even an amateur detective would place Ryotaro Dojima at the top of the list of suspects in Namatame's murder."

Kanji nodded. "Makes sense to me. So you're the next best thing compared to Dojima then?"

Naoto glanced sternly at him, only to see that he was teasing her. She changed her stern glare to an eye-roll and returned to the task at hand.

After selecting proper clothing, Naoto hurried through her morning routine. Fifteen minutes later, she donned her hat and a jacket, strapped on her revolver, grabbed her crime scene bag, and kissed Kanji goodbye with the minty tang of toothpaste still on her breath.

"Be careful." Kanji said as she turned to go. "And swing by the shop when you're done. I think Ma wants us to have dinner with her tonight."

Naoto tensed, and then decided not to think about dinner with Kanji's mother until later. One thing at a time. Kanji noticed the brief stressed expression pass over her face. He chuckled. "She loves you. You know that."

Naoto shrugged. "It still doesn't make me feel any better. I don't want to do anything wrong."

Kanji rolled his eyes. "You never do. Damn perfectionist." He got out of bed and walked over to Naoto, tipped up her hat, and kissed her. "Now go fight crime."

Naoto smiled and nodded, then turned to exit the room.

* * *

The first thing that struck Naoto as she arrived at the crime scene was the thick fog that hung in the air. Fog was not unusual in Inaba, but fog this thick reminded her of that fateful December six years ago. She shook off the thought and stepped over to the group of crime scene investigators crowded around the outside of the building. They were taking pictures of something several floors up, using special lenses to minimize the blur of the fog.

Dojima strode over to Naoto and gave a small wave. "Morning, Shirogane. Glad you could join us."

Naoto gave a curt nod. "Good morning, Dojima-san. Is the victim up there?" She motioned to the fog-shrouded spot that the photographers were desperately trying to capture on film.

Dojima nodded. "It's a mess. The attendant who checked on him around eleven last night said he was absolutely fine; was working on his book…nothing out of the ordinary. The attendant who came in this morning found him hanging outside his window."

Naoto raised an eyebrow incredulously. "Suicide? You called me in for a suicide?"

"That's where it gets messy." Dojima shook his head and rubbed his temples then looked around the scene angrily. "SATONAKA, WHERE'S MY COFFEE?!"

Naoto watched with amusement as a very flustered looking Chie Satonaka came sprinting towards Dojima. She was clutching a bag (presumably full of donuts and probably a pack of cigarettes) and a giant thermos (presumably full of coffee). Chie skidded to a halt as she reached them and thrust the bag and thermos towards Dojima, her head bent in a shamed bow.

"Forgive me…huff…Sensei…huff…long line at the…huff…donut shop." Chie panted, her shoulders heaving with exhaustion.

Dojima snatched the bag and the thermos from Chie's outstretched hands. Without even a grunt of acknowledgment, he flipped open the thermos lid and proceeded to chug half of its contents.

Naoto observed that Chie was not wearing the simple blue police officer's uniform as she had been during the last case they'd worked together. Instead, Chie wore a collared shirt rolled at the sleeves, and a skirt that fell just above her knees. Naoto had to smile at the high-heeled boots. How Chie managed to stand in those things—let alone run in them—was a mystery that Naoto never hoped to solve. From the change in attire, Naoto felt it was safe to assume that Chie had been promoted.

"Senpai, it's good to see you well. I see you have been working your way through the ranks of Inaba's Police. Congratulations on becoming a detective."

Dojima snorted and began rooting through the donut bag. Finding an acceptable pastry, he jammed it in his mouth.

Chie looked up and smiled at Naoto. "Naoto-kun, it's been awhile." She tucked a stray lock of dark blonde hair behind her ear. "And thanks, but I'm not exactly a detective. Not yet anyway."

"That's right, Satonaka. You're my assistant. Which means…?"

Chie sighed and recited a clearly memorized mantra. "It means that I will do everything that you say, including but not limited to, fetching you any food or drink item that you request at any time on the job, picking up your dry-cleaning, filing your casework, and helping Nanako-chan with any feminine issues that she may be too embarrassed to discuss with her father, promptly reporting back to you if these things involve anything illegal or immoral."

Naoto felt her lips twitch in a grin. "I see."

Chie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, basically I'm Adachi's replacement."

Dojima glared at her.

"W-Well…except for the fact that I'm not a psychopathic murderer who has an unhealthy obsession with cabbage." Chie stammered.

Dojima, apparently finished with his breakfast, shoved the bag and thermos back into Chie's arms. "Alright, enough chitchat. As I was saying, Shirogane, Namatame's case is messy. It looks like a suicide at first glance, but if you take a closer look…well, see for yourself." He motioned over to the taped off crime scene. The crime scene workers had removed the body from the window and had it on a tarp under bright floodlights.

Naoto stepped over the _crime scene: do not cross_ tape and looked at the body. She immediately wished she had not.

Taro Namatame lay limply on the tarp. There was a long length of barbed wire wrapped around his neck and blood that had long since stopped pumping stained his butchered neck and the top of his white shirt. His face was an odd purplish color and his cheeks were bloated.

Naoto turned away from the body, her lip curled in silent disgust. She heard Chie's sharp intake of breath. Dojima, standing back from the crime scene and behind the tape, only lit a cigarette and smoked pensively.

"What do you think, Shirogane?"

She reluctantly turned her glance back to the body.

_It is not the body of someone you met. You know nothing about him. He is a faceless victim of crime. You are the one to bring him justice. Focus._ Yamato Takeru buzzed encouragingly.

Naoto opened her crime scene bag and pulled out some disposable gloves. She set about examining the body. She flipped open a notebook and began taking notes:

_Notebook of Detective Naoto Shirogane_

_April 26, 2017. Victim: Taro Namatame_

_Noted:_

_--Rigor mortis present, he has been dead for less than six hours. Confirms evening attendant's statement._

_--No livor mortis present. The body did not rest before being hung. The blood had no time to settle._

_--Severe lacerations along neck. Barbed wire may have been used as weapon. Cuts could also result from gravity when body was hung_

_--Discoloration of skin…bloated and splotched. _

_Supposed Cause of Death: __suicide__, strangulation? blood loss? __Poison_

Naoto flipped the notebook closed and stood up. "He's been poisoned."

Dojima nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought too."

"We'll need a tox screen. And I'll need to question the attendants here."

Dojima nodded. "Then get to it. I have to leave the scene now. Protocol, you know."

Naoto frowned. It was going to be a long day. She could already tell.


	4. Chapter 3: Gathering Evidence

**Chapter Three**

_April 26, 2017—morning_. _Weather: foggy_.

Naoto sighed as she flipped her notebook closed and looked up at the pimply, teenaged janitor. His hair was carrot-orange and he was attempting to grow a mustache. It wasn't really working. Naoto refrained from pointing this out.

"You are sure that you do not recall anyone strange loitering about?"

"Yeah, like I already told you. I didn't notice anything weird. I usually notice weird stuff."

Naoto nodded. Although the young man's attempt to grow facial hair seemed more than a little misguided, it appeared that he had enough sense to notice the comings and goings of people.

"Thank you for your time." She nodded to the boy and returned to the lobby of the mental hospital. Chie was just finishing up her basic questioning with the hospital's receptionist.

As Naoto approached, Chie looked up and gave an exasperated sigh. "Any luck?"

Naoto shook her head. "I have questioned Namatame's attendants, his nurses, his doctor, his psychiatrist, an intern, and a janitor. No one saw anything suspicious."

Chie's jaw dropped. "You…you questioned all those people in an hour and a half?"

Naoto nodded. "Yes. Is something wrong with that?"

"N-no…it's just…wow."

Naoto stared blankly at her.

"Uh, never mind." Chie shook her head. "I didn't have any luck either. The receptionist provided the records of Namatame's visitors." Chie handed Naoto a manila folder. "I'm supposed to process these back at the station, but I figured you'd want to take a look."

Naoto shook her head and returned the folder to Chie. "Thank you, Senpai, but it would be much preferable if you would provide me with photocopies following your processing."

"Alright. I'll have the copies. When you're done here, swing by the station. If we're lucky, we might even have a tox screen back." Chie smiled at Naoto and left with the manila folder.

Naoto sighed and sank down into one of the plastic chairs in the lobby. It had been an exhausting day already and it wasn't even noon. There had been no leads so far; something that always frustrated her. She pushed back her hat and rubbed her temples. She could feel the beginnings of a large headache creeping along the back of her skull.

"Shirogane-san."

Naoto looked up to see a blue-clad police officer standing in front of her. He was middle age and grey-haired. His face was weather-beaten and his voice was gruff.

"Yes?"

"The crime scene team has finished processing evidence in the vic's room. You're welcome to take a second look."

Naoto nodded and followed the officer to the elevator. Upon reaching Namatame's room, she took her leave of him and slipped on some gloves.

The room was simple. There was a metal-framed bed with crumpled white sheets pushed up near the far wall. A desk stood in front of the room's singular window. The window from which the corpse had been hanging. Naoto could see marks scored into the window frame from where the barbed wire had scraped.

Naoto noted that there wasn't a single drop of blood inside the room. "That supports my theory that he was poisoned. There would be no blood in that scenario." She noted this in her notebook.

There was an old laptop sitting on the desk. Near it lay several scattered papers. Naoto picked up some of the loose paper and sifted through the information written there. It was mostly handwritten drafts for the book Namatame had been writing. A few pages contained love letters to Mayumi Yamano.

Naoto frowned. Yamano had been dead for six years, and yet Namatame wrote to her as if she were still alive. Perhaps, she thought, he preferred to live in delusion. Perhaps he did not have the strength to accept the fact that she was gone.

She replaced the papers on the desk and opened the laptop. The machine hissed as it loaded. When the screen prompted her to enter a password, Naoto typed _Mayumi_. The computer informed her that her password was incorrect.

_Try something else. Maybe something he regrets?_ Yamato Takeru suggested.

Naoto thought for a moment then typed _Kunino-sagiri_. The computer loaded the desktop.

"Interesting. His computer password was the name of his shadow. The very fact that he recollects this name is intriguing." After noting that down, Naoto went to the menu bar and selected "recent documents." The drop-down list appeared, displaying the contents. The electronic version of Namatame's book was the only interesting document. Finding nothing that struck her as evidence, she searched the deleted files that had not yet been cleared. Again, nothing interesting. The computer had no internet connection, so there was no need to search his browsing history.

Naoto shut the laptop forcefully, as if willing it to give her evidence through force. She opened the desk drawer and saw only a single manila folder. She opened it and removed the contents: a picture of Mayumi Yamano, a newspaper clipping about the announcer's affair, a clipping from the same newspaper about her death, several newspaper clippings detailing Namatame's arrest and trial, and more recent clippings.

Naoto's blood froze as she pulled the first recent clipping from the folder. It pictured Kanji standing in front of a stall full of beautifully sown garments and stuffed animals. She knew this picture. It had been on the front page of the _Inaba Times_ during the previous year's Culture Day Festival. Kanji had been so proud of himself. He'd walked around for days with a giant grin on his face.

But why the fuck did Taro Namatame have it?

Naoto attempted to calm herself. It was a clipping from a public newspaper. There wasn't anything odd about Namatame having it. Perhaps he was interested in cloth or plushy.

She tucked the clipping back into the folder and drew out a second more recent clipping. Again, her blood froze. It was a picture of Yukiko Amagi in full kimono standing in front of the newly renovated Amagi Inn.

Naoto began to furiously flip through the clippings. There was a cut out article about Rise's new album release, accompanied by a picture of the idol performing during her American tour.

Another clipping showed Chie in full cop uniform pointing a gun at a hooded man. The article detailed Chie's first big case, a successful drug bust just outside of town.

Then another clipping showed Yosuke in a business suit looking frazzled. The caption under the picture read: "allegations against Junes dropped; finger found in curry actually made of rubber."

The final clipping made Naoto's stomach flop. It was a picture of herself. It had been taken at the scene of the recent money laundering case. The article detailed how valuable Detective Shirogane had been in solving the case. The words of praise held no merit for her now. It was obvious that Namatame was stalking the old investigation team. She shut the folder quickly.

"What were you up to, Namatame?" She asked as she wiped a cold sweat from her forehead. She jumped as her cell phone chirped, tipping back in the chair in the process. She fell and smacked her head against the floor.

Choosing a few choice words, Naoto answered her phone in a way that may have shocked even Kanji.

"…uhh…Naoto-kun?" The voice on the other end asked timidly after a long pause.

"Chie-senpai," Naoto sat up, rubbing her head. "Forgive my little…outburst."

There was silence on the other end.

"Are you still there, Senpai?"

"Yeah…I'm still recovering. But fuck, Naoto-kun. Where'd you learn to swear like that?"

"Never mind that!" Naoto cut in quickly. "What is the purpose of your call?"

"The tox screen is in. It was cyanide. A really high dose."

Naoto swore under her breath. "Cyanide is easily manufactured providing one has the knowledge to make it without producing poison gas."

"Also, the visitor records are sparse at best. Only a few people ever visited him. Mostly reporters just after his trial."

"So then no one visited him. It had to be someone on the inside!" Naoto quickly pulled out her notebook and began scribbling furiously. "This narrows it down to either the employees or the other residents. Thank you, Senpai! I'll get to work right away!"

Naoto hung up, feeling the delightful rush that came from finding a lead. Now all she had to do was pursue it. The criminal wouldn't know what hit him.

* * *

_Afternoon_. _Weather: very foggy_.

"Wait, what? Did I hear you right?!"

"You heard me correctly Chie-senpai. The only person Namatame ever spoke to in the institution besides his doctors and attendants, was Mistuo Kubo."

"As in the guy who killed King Moron?"

"The very same." Naoto shifted the cell phone against her shoulder as she began to eat her lunch of instant noodles in the nurse's break room. "Apparently they had recently had a disagreement about Namatame's representation of Kubo in the book."

"Namatame's book was about the events in 2011?"

"Precisely." Naoto slurped a noodle and attempted to cover it with a cough. "It is actually an interesting read. I have been skimming it while waiting for Kubo."

"He's with his psychiatrist?"

"Yes. He apparently has very long meetings with several doctors daily." Naoto spilled a noodle on her shirt and swore softly under her breath. She quickly swiped it away and dabbed at the stain with a napkin. "Namatame's book says that Kubo was suffering from some sort of complex in which he fantasized himself to be superior to everyone, but in reality felt like a loser."

"That sounds spot-on to me. His shadow boss was a tiny baby protected behind an 8-bit wall of death." Naoto could hear Chie's shudder. "That whole dungeon was pretty fucked up, actually."

Not for the first time, Naoto wished that she had been with the team from the very beginning. She only got to see the tail end of it. And, in her opinion, it made her the least linked to any of the investigation team.

"That must have been quite something. I am sad I never was able to see his dungeon. We never trained there."

"Yeah. Everyone hated going there. It was like being trapped in the '80s or something."

"SATONAKA!"

Naoto heard Dojima's bellow as clearly, as if she'd been conversing with him directly.

"Err…sorry, Dojima-sensei! Just got a little off topic."

"Well get back on it or it'll be your paycheck that goes on a tangent!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Naoto smiled. Chie really _was_ Adachi's replacement. How many times had she heard nearly the same commands shouted while she worked in the Inaba Police Department in 2011?

"Chie-senpai?"

"Heh…sorry about that, Naoto-kun. I got a little off track. What were you saying?"

Naoto flipped back to her case notes. "Well…I conversed with Namatame's psychiatrist again after receiving your earlier call. I asked him about any companions Namatame had within the institution. And he told me only Kubo."

"How can we believe him?"

"I have confirmed it with several other employees including the break room supply stocker."

"The what? Naoto-kun, you really are a Detective Prince, you know?"

Naoto sighed, feeling the headache creeping up her spine again. "So I've been told. Frequently."

She was forced to cut both the call and her lunch break short as an attendant told her that Kubo was available for questioning.


End file.
